


Poems: One Of Us Has To Know What’s Going On Here And It’s Not Gonna Be Me

by Randommuse386



Series: portrait of the artist unhinged [2]
Category: Original Work, Poetry - Fandom
Genre: Anger, Anxiety, Bad Days, Cheaper than Therapy, Death, Depression, Good Days, Loss, Love, Nostalgia, Poetry, Recovery, Regret, Yearning, and less effective but ya know, and other things, eh days, emotional grab-bag, happiness, mental health, really just me talking to myself, wildly varying poetic forms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:20:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24452785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randommuse386/pseuds/Randommuse386
Summary: Starting a new poetry collection; the first one was growing a bit big and I think was gaining sentience.Various forms, moods, themes, whatever, all loosely tied under the illusion of “poetry”
Series: portrait of the artist unhinged [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766164
Kudos: 2





	Poems: One Of Us Has To Know What’s Going On Here And It’s Not Gonna Be Me

putting the ‘i’ in ‘unreliable narrator’

i was just starting to think  
my body was more home  
than house  
until you got my name and address  
and invited yourself in  
creeping and quiet  
mud caked into carpet  
and hands  
scratch  
scratch  
scratching  
down the walls of my back  
knuckles knocking against spine  
in a mockery of chimes  
freely swaying in the wind

i wake up and see  
with eyes not mine  
each step i take  
an afterimage  
developing in your wake  
i try to ignore how perfectly  
our footsteps match  
how we leave the same  
fingerprints  
speak with the same  
voice

i breathe  
you breathe  
and so much air  
is choking our lungs  
no, not ours  
mine  
these lungs are mine  
i keep forgetting  
i was here first

at least i can only hear one  
heartbeat  
but then i dread to think  
of what drives you  
no steady thrumming  
just a loud silence that gets closer and closer  
lingering in the doors  
you’ve cracked open in me  
i had those closed for a reason  
you know  
didn’t i?  
i swear i did

everything’s getting hazy again  
stop messing  
with the lights upstairs  
and quit emptying my closets  
i can’t keep tripping  
on these skeletons  
at least  
i’m pretty sure they’re mine  
but it’s hard to tell if our  
cheekbones match  
and i don’t have my  
dental records handy  
they’ve gotta be mine  
with the state they’re in  
i swear

how have i lost  
the past few days?  
i don’t remember getting here  
and wasn’t the master bedroom  
mine?  
i swear it was mine  
but the furniture is different  
it feels like it’s always been here  
and it fits better than what  
i thought was here  
before

before, what?  
before or after i moved in?  
or was it you?

wasn’t i here first?


End file.
